Muggle Magic
by The Anonymous Name
Summary: It's 1945. She's a muggle - or so she thinks. Okay, fineee, she's not, happy? She finds out she's a witch at SIXTEEN, and is shipped off to Hogwarts. There, she meets the future Dark Lord, and... like they say, all is history. Tom Riddle/ OC


_**SUMMARY**_

It's 1945.

She's a sixteen year old Muggle who doesn't give a rats ass about the existence of magic. She's ordinary, or so she feels, and would like to keep it that way.

But somehow, somehow or another, she develops powerful magic at the age of _sixteen_, and an even uncannier ability to speak to... (Forget it, you can read about it yourself.)

A late bloomer? Perhaps... But something - something_ is_ definitely brewing at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: I'm not thaaaat pro as to think of something like this. This is J.K Rowling's, true and true.**

**Warning: There's none I guess?**

**Pairing: Tom Riddle/OC *LUV HIM***

* * *

**Prologue - Wah?**

_Dessspicable two legged beassst! Die..._

The intensity of venom dripping from the curse startled me out of my reverie. The hatred masked in the hiss was just indescribable, so much so that it was by far impossible to put it into words. That person - or _thing_ for that matter didn't just intend to kill its victim, but to kill it, then skewer it, then skin it, then tear out its organs one by one... I closed my eyes, trying to purge my mind from the scarring images of possibility that flickered through it.

_Die..._

I opened my eyes, and glanced at my fellow classmates who seemed completely unperturbed by the disturbing messages echoing throughout the classroom. Granted, most of them were semi conscious since it was Arithmetic period, but even the studious ones who were wide awake had _no_ reaction to it.

It was as though... they didn't hear it? Could it be?

Or was I hallucinating?

_Die, foolisssh human!_

Human? Panic devoured my mind fully. A human was about to be... about to be... I should investigate this, now! _But then..._ I glanced down sheepishly at my untouched sheet of Arithmetic assignment...

What could ever be more important than Arithmetic?

I don't know, someone's life maybe?

That settled it. I waved my hand around like a drunken maniac till it caught my Arithmetic teacher's attention. Taking her own sweet time, Mdm Anna gingerly laid her piece of precious chalk down onto the teacher's table, moving at a snail's rate of one centimeter per minute. I felt like scooping up that good-for-nothing junk of powder and breaking it into a million pieces. Trust me, I was not usually a violent person, but watching her go about life in such a tortuously slow manner more than often brought out the violent streak in me.

In frustration, I vowed to smear lizards dung on my Arithmetic homework later.

Finally, she looked up to acknowledge me. "Ms Praefortis? Is there a problem?" She asked. If there was one good thing that came out of Mdm Anna, it was the fact that she could actually pronounce my surname correctly, which is something that I can't say for most people (including myself).

"I feel queasy, Madam," I replied, roughening my voice. Hopefully, she wasn't as intelligent as her Arithmetic prowess proved her to be.

She wasn't. "Oh, darling," She exclaimed, making me feel guilty for my deceit. "You do look pale. Go on, you had better run along to the sickroom."

I nodded, feinting faintness as I lumbered out of class like a three legged bear. The moment I was out of sight though, I dropped my act. I made a run for it, running so fast that if I were to accelerate any further, I would probably fly.

But... whoever the victim was, he/she/it was probably already long dead. Getting Mdm Annie to acknowledge me _alone_ had already taken up five minutes; obtaining permission to be excused from class had taken another five minutes; and reaching there - to the murder scene, would take another five... And besides, what were the chances that the murderer would kindly just stay put and wait for my arrival?

_You run? No, you cannot outrun me..._

I cringed at the murderous intent in its tone, following it as I ran. I didn't even know where I was heading. I was just running, unconsciously leaping over bushes and darting round trees, trusting that the source of sound would bring me somewhere time-worthy...

Someone slammed against me, throwing me off balance.

I flew backwards, like a tossed javelin, and crashed straight into the thorny rose bush (of all the bushes) behind. Great, just my stinking luck.

A string of curses left my lips as I eased myself out of it, literal pins and needles further embedding themselves in my soft skin as I struggled to distangle myself from its evil clutches.

Furious, I swiveled around to give the bastard who had knocked me over a good piece of my mind - which included pushing him into a bush as well, when the words just caught in my throat on the route out.

For one thing, the boy was holding a rat.

I mean, sure, I could look pass the fact that he was dressed like a vampire, with his long swishy Stygian cloak, curious attire underneath it and a black pointed hat, but the grotesque rat squirming in his hand, I simply couldn't. Who the hell carried rats around in their left hands?

The boy fumbled for something with his free hand. Within seconds, his free hand emerged from his pocket, grasping a freaking _stick_. My eyes bulged out even more than it had earlier. Who the hell kept sticks in their pockets?

This little guy was nuts, no joke about that.

I had so many questions to ask, but the first complete sentence which burst out of my mouth was something stupid. "Rat. You have a rat! A _rat_!"

Eyes wide, the boy turned to face me, still armed with that queer stick of his. From the distraught look on the face, I could tell that he had long forgotten about my existence until I had spoken.

For some reason, he hurriedly kept the stick.

I didn't see what was so _important_ about that precious stick of his that he had to keep it hidden from human eyes, but again, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was simply loony - as all the signs pointed to.

"You are in school," I drew out, doing my duty. "But you're not wearing the school uniform. As a prefect, I'll have to take some demerit points off your house."

The intense fear on the boy's features were beginning to evaporate. If anything, he looked slightly amused at my observation. It pissed me off greatly. I preferred it when he was about to wee in his knickers.

"Actually," He said with a sheepish smile. "I'm not from this mug- I mean, school."

I folded my arms, trying to act menacing. But my continuous wincing at the sight of the disgusting glob of fur writhing about in his hands made it hard to do so. "You do know, trespassing on private property can get you thrown into jail, kid."

That little twit actually found my threat funny! "Nah," he shook it off with a laugh dismissively. "I won't get thrown into a mug-" The killer look etched all over my features caused him to realize that if he didn't take something seriously soon, his funeral would be impending fast. "Um, my pet here," He lifted the horrible creature to my face, making me double back. "My pet, it sort of raced in here. And well, I had to go after it, right?"

I suppressed my desire to ask who the ruddy hell kept a rat as a pet.

"When I did find my pet, there was this snake-"

_There you are... Die..._

A snake suddenly slithered out from no where. Wait, that's not the main point, let me rephrase it. A _talking_ snake suddenly slithered out from no where. Talking, talking, _talking_!

I suppose I should be thankful that it had been merely a snake talking crap about destroying human beings, and not an even deadlier beast, but it was hard to feel grateful when you were shaking like a leaf amid a hurricane. Trust me, it was not the snake itself that scared the shit out of me - I'm not a ninny, but the fact that it was _talking_.

"Snake," I stammered, losing my ability to form complete sentences, leaving me with lofty monosyllables. "Snake. Talking. The Hell?"

The boy screamed, and in a split second, his peculiar piece of stick was in his hands once more. What? He intended to beat the crap out of the snake with that flimsy stick of his? Fat hope.

From the way the boys hands were shaking, I didn't think he would have been able to kill an ant even.

_Weak... Your end will be ssslow and painful..._

"Hey, uh, kid," I stammered, a bad feeling settling in the pits of my stomach "Don't you think we'll be better off if we run?"

The boy's awkward grip of his stick tightened, and he pointed the end of it towards the snake, as though he intended to immobilize the snake by casting some spell on it. In any other situation, this would've been quite hilarious. But the talking snake had completely spoiled my mood, and all the humour that accompanied it.

"No," He said, his voice shaking. Then he went on to mumble something about 'deep shit', magic', 'prohibited', 'Azkaban', and the 'ministry of magic'. Don't ask me how they formed a coherent sentence.

Told you he was off his rockers.

Then the snake lunged.

Time seemed to slow down. Everything moved like those slow-mo violent scenes you saw at the movie theaters (if you were lucky to ever visit one). The boy jumped backwards; the boy dropped his stick; the boy turned on his heels; the boy attempted to make a quick getaway...

The snakes jaws came dangerously close to his neck. And at the exact moment, I hollered hysterically, "STOP! STOP! STOP!

_-STOP!_" For some strange reason, the last 'stop' sounded raspier than usual to my ears. I didn't have time to speculate.

I wasn't even certain why I did that. It wasn't as if the snake could understand English.

I glanced at the snake to confirm my hypothesis. But something - something that glinted in its eyes told me that it could.

I snorted. Pffft, who was I kidding? There was no way in hell that I could communicate with snakes! For heaven's sake, even snake charmers couldn't do that. Apparently, according to my Language teacher, they 'charmed' the snake by the movement of the flute...

"_You sssspeak my Native tongue, human?_" The snake directed the question at me. It had stopped in its tracks, and, to my relief, had not touched a single hair on the boy's head.

It was difficult to calm myself down. After all, it was not everyday that one had an opportunity to speak to Mr Snake. This had to be my first.

"Native tongue?" I hyperventilated. "Snake talk?"

The snake eyed me disapprovingly. _"Parssseltongu_e," it corrected. Now I was being corrected by a bloody snake! How much more crazy than this day get?

"_That makesss two Parsssselmouthsss that I know of,_" it continued redundantly.

"Par- Par- Par-" When my tongue tripped over itself for the third time, I gave up attempting to pronounce that complicated three syllable word. Let me tell you from first experience, it was demoralizing when a snake could enunciate perfectly something that you couldn't. "I haven't heard of that before, but I... I'm quite positive that I am speaking English."

"**_Are_** _ssspeaking Englisssh_," the snake corrected again. "_But, **wasss** not_. _And, would you care to explain how you happen to underssstand me whilssst I am ssspeaking in Parssseltongue?_"

This smart-ass snake was beginning to get on my nerves. Having snake stew for lunch suddenly seemed very appealing to me.

"I may not know the extent of a snake's knowledge," I replied, finding my wits - which was enough for me to be sarcastic. "But-"

The boy was huddled up close against the wall next to me, still stunned from his close brush with death. He was breathing heavily, fingers clutching his pet rat so tightly that I was quite surprised that it hadn't exploded yet. But that was not what puzzled me. Instead, it was the way the boy was looking at me. From the way he was eyeing me, you would suppose that I was some big bad monster about to devour him whole.

"You..." He was stammering madly. "You speak snake-" Then he fainted in shock - right on me.

That was rich, considering he was the one looking like he'd arrived from a different planet with his dress code and all. In any case, _I_ should be the one fainting in shock, not him.

The rat freed himself from the boy's limp clutches, scampering off merrily, only to be blocked from his path to freedom by one very large snake. The snake, rather contentedly, shredded it to pieces before it could even squeak its last squeak.

I grimaced. The boy wasn't going to like this.

"So," I tried to start a conversation with the now cheerful snake. "Let me confirm something. You were after the _rat_, not the boy, right?"

"_Until the brat kicked me_," The snake offered as it devoured its scrumptious meal. "_And sssaid sssome not-ssso-nice thingsss_."

I nodded, trying to be impartial about the whole ordeal. But it was difficult not to follow my natural instinct to back-up my own kind, and, it was hard to see from a snake's perspective as I didn't fully comprehend the clockworks of its brain.

I stared down at the limp boy in my arms, studying him properly for the first time. He seemed approximately three years younger than me, perhaps thirteen or so. I began to wonder there and then from the colours he was matching, what sort of school he attended if it was not this one.

The school either had a very strange taste, or was joking around.

"Was there a problem?" A concerned female voice sounded from above me. "There were screams. I came as fast as I could."

I didn't know that person personally, but I recognize her as one of the teachers on the campus. I was quite relieved at her arrival. She had come just in the nick of time and saved me the trouble of lugging this boy to the sickroom.

"This kid fainted, Mam," I replied, lying silkily through my teeth. "He isn't from the Campus I think. But either way, we ought to take him to the sick room."

She agreed heartily that it was the right course of action. Identifying him would have to wait till he regains consciousness.

In no time, the boy was being lowered onto a stretcher, and carried to the sick room. I just watched, reality beginning to set in. (I'd spoken to a snake!) It was a tad bit too late to be stunned by this incident that had happened over twenty minutes ago, but I couldn't help it.

This was a dream, I convinced myself, and it would all soon be over.

I looked back at the empty clearing in which I had previously met both the boy and the snake.

Out of a ridiculous impulse, I whispered softly, "Farewell, Mr Snake. You're one of the finest snakes I've encountered."

Then I was aware of how silly I sounded, talking to nothing. For goodness sake, the snake was a hallucination! I couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and disappointment at the same time. I was normal - of course I was normal! There was absolutely nothing wrong with me, and this should call for a celebration.

I picked up the boy's personal stick on the ground. I didn't know why, but I just had an unusual feeling that it was somehow rather important to him. Then I turned, and began to take my leave. It was my turn to head to the sick room as I had told Mdm Annie earlier.

"_SSSame to you. Goodbye my ally, may we meet again,_" A hiss suddenly resounded from a nearby bush.


End file.
